At Least She Was a Good Kisser
by MsJadey
Summary: Sanosuke falls deep into the rabbit hole one evening, and gets a mouthful. malexmale


**Title:** At Least She Was a Good Kisser

**Author:** MsJadey

**E-mail:** slashingmsjadey@hotmail.com

**Archive:** Sizzle 'n Burn fic challenge

**Rating:** PG-13

**Warnings:** sexuality, language, cross dressing

**Summary:** Sano goes down the rabbit hole and gets a mouthful.

**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to Watsuki-sensei.  I make no money from this and plead fair use.

~*~~*~~*~

PreReading Note:

One of the most accepted anachronisms of Rurouni Kenshin fanfiction is the act of kissing.  So accepted is it, that some people are not even aware that it /is/ an anachronism.  

Actually, the Japanese culture has always viewed osculation somewhat differently than European and North American cultures.  Historically, kissing in Japan has been limited to a carnal kink, like bondage in our culture; certainly, it was nothing you'd to do your grandmother before she boarded the train home.  As late as the 1940s, at least, Western books with any kissing were heavily censored in Japan, though contemporary Japan has lightened up quite a bit.

However, kissing is an irrepressible part of several other cultures in the world and its absence in RK fiction would be jarring.  Hence, the accepted anachronism.

However. . .  Just for kicks, I thought it might be amusing to play it straight for once (in a manner of speaking), and tell it like it really might be.

~*~~*~~*~

The sun began to set--on his hopes.

Sanosuke was in a bind.  He knew he should have started getting worried the moment Tae had shown up at Kaoru's dojo to request lessons, "a rougher element has been showing up at the Akabeko lately, and I want to be able to protect my own restaurant," but it hadn't occurred to him the extents to which Tae would be able to employ her newfound martial prowess.  He'd tried to skip out on his bill again yesterday afternoon, and had woken up outside the Akabeko with a lump on his head and a note pinned to his shirt.  He'd gotten Yahiko to read it to him--only after enduring the little snot's mockery--and was informed that if he didn't pay his tab and soon, no restaurant in all of Tokyo would serve him.

It had barely been a day since the threat was issued, and already Sano's stomach was threatening to digest itself.  Apparently, Kaoru had been a collaborator with Tae and was refusing to serve him even her food, much less Kenshin's.  Sano had been searching everywhere for money, meals, anything, all day, but the best he had managed was a bit of rice and a lot of harsh rejections.  Everywhere he went, people laughed in his face if he asked for a loan, telling him a strong young boy like himself should have no reason to beg for food.  Nobody was giving a guy a break, and Sanosuke getting to the breaking point.  If his next try didn't pan out, he was going to do the most drastic thing he could imagine: get a job.

But he did have one chance left, one last ray of hope before the looming terror of employment took its stranglehold on his future.  A brand-new restaurant had opened up a few days ago, and if he were lucky, Tae might not have her claws into it yet.  Sano planned on making buddies with the owner and riding out a new tab for as long as possible.  Hopefully, in the interim, he could finally manage to break his losing streak at dice.  He'd been thinking about it for the past month, and was very certain he'd thought of a foolproof plan to win every time!

Even if he wasn't able to get this new restaurant owner to tide him over until his windfall, there was a good chance he'd at least be able to fill his stomach one more time.  Otherwise, rats were starting to look appetizing.

He found the restaurant easily, still draped as it was with banners proclaiming its new opening.  It didn't look as though it was getting much business, however.  When Sano peeked through the main door, there were only a few pairs of shoes tucked to the side and not even a greeter to meet him and take him to a table.

Curious about the seemingly abandoned restaurant, he entered, removed his shoes, and began exploring some of the private rooms--searching for guests, hosts, thieves, anyone.

Before very long, he bumped into a harried young man who immediately squealed and threw his arms around Sanosuke.

"Oh wonderful!  Are you a replacement hired by Father?  We're so desperate for help right now--all of our staff has taken sick and might not return, and we simply cannot keep any guests with no one to cater to them!  Please, please, right this way.  I'll get you outfitted and you can begin serving.  My, aren't you a tall one!  Well, we'll find something appropriate."  The effervescent lad began dragging Sano down the hall, presumably to put him to work.  He had to be stopped.

"Whoa, man!  I think you got the wrong guy.  I came here to eat."  Sano almost felt guilty as the boy's face fell.  "But, uh. . .  You know, I been lookin' for a job anyhow.  You say you got a spot open?"

"Oh yes!  Yes, and we do need help so badly.  Sir, I would be forever indebted to you if you would enter into our employ!"  He was bouncing around again.  Sano worried the kid might wet himself with happiness.

"Okay, but if you don't mind, I gotta couple of conditions. . ."

The kid didn't suspect a thing.  "Oh, of course, whatever you require.  I'm just so glad I'll have someone to help me!  Poor Father, this restaurant was his lifelong dream, and on the very cusp of its realization, it's crumbling!"

Sanosuke was feeling bad for the boy's plight, but his head was spinning trying to listen to him.  "Yeah, yeah.  Uh, so I got just a few things I need.  First of all, can I start tomorrow?  I'm kinda not up to it tonight.  Second, I haven't eaten in a bit, so if you wouldn't mind feedin' me. . .  Third, would you mind givin' me an advance on my pay?  See, I've got this situation. . ."

The boy blinked a bit at the requests, but shook it off quickly.  "Well, I'll have to ask Father about the advance, but I'm certain we can work something out with regards to a meal.  Only, seeing as I'm the only one here serving, would you mind terribly if I seated you with our only other guests?  They're such a friendly group, so I don't think they'd mind, and it would be much easier for me if everyone were in the same place."

Sano was feeling benevolent in his good fortune.  "Sure, kid, whatever you need.  You go rustle me up a dinner, and I'll find these guests of yours and make nice with them."  He patted the boy on the head.  "We're gonna get along fine, kid, er--"

"Joshuyo Shinichi."

"Shin-chan.  And you can call me Sagara Sanosuke."  Sanosuke was going to smile, but then his stomach added its own comment and he opted for a grimace.

Shinichi beamed at him regardless.  "I will go now to make you something to eat, Sanosuke-kun.  You will find our honoured guests in room three.  Down the hall, towards the front entrance, on the left.

He found the room easily, after trying only two of his lefts.  The room was decorated beautifully, with an elegant wall scroll, a vase of arranged flowers, and some austere lamps.  The wood and rice paper were all high quality, as was the low table, at which sat two giggling blod foreigners, one slouching Japanese man, and a strangely-shaped geisha.  He couldn't make out the faces of the two Japanese because they faced away from him, but the foreigners were more red than white and completely drenched with sake.  Sano smiled.  If these two could afford that much sake and still entertain a geisha, maybe they had so much money that a little could find its way to him without their notice.  Hell, they were sloshed enough, they might just mistake him for a waitress and give it all to him.

"Oh, hello!  Who are you?"

Sano jumped as the bright voice and slightly mangled Japanese interrupted his devious planning.  "Uh, Sanosuke.  Sagara Sanosuke."

The blonder of the two, not the one who had spoken before, looked up from studying the spills of alcohol on the table.  "Sanosuke, is it?  What a charming name, don't you think, Bartlett?"

"Oh, quite.  Very nice.  What is it again?"  As he said this, Bartlett began sliding onto the floor.  Sano scrambled over, grabbed him by the frill on his shirt, and hoisted him back into place.  As he smoothed down the foreigner's shirt and repeated his name, Sano finally got a good look at the geisha's face.

A very good look.

Too good.

"Crawford, what's wrong with this boy?  He's gone all stiff."

"It must be you, Bartlett.  You have that effect on people."

"Flatterer.  Here, help me get him to sit down.  A little drink will help him.  You there--Mister Chuu, or something--grab his legs."

When Sano came to, he found himself sitting between the inebriated Mr. Bartlett and Mr. Crawford, being force-fed sake.  He choked and waved their hands away.

"Uh, thanks.  You know, I'd better get goin'.  Probably shouldn't be drinkin' anythin' more right now."  Sano furiously avoided looking the geisha in the face as he tried to get out from between the foreigners.  But as he stood, they grabbed his legs and hands.

"No, no!  You can't go until we're certain you're recovered!  Bartlett would be so upset if you were to be hurt because of him."  Normally, Sano would have extricated himself already, however at that moment, the joint actions of him lifting his left leg and Crawford latching onto it like a six-year-old girl caused him to pitch forward.  Towards the geisha's lap.

Fortunately for his face and mental well-being, the so-called geisha grabbed him by the neck and pushed him to the side where he smacked into the slouching Japanese named Chuu (or something) who pushed him back towards the geisha who pushed him onto the floor, where he smacked his head and lay in a daze.  The foreigners began squealing most awfully after this until the Japanese on either side of him relented and pulled him back into a sitting position between them.  When finally Sanosuke was settled, he immediately tried to stand up and remove himself from the awkward situation.  Unfortunately, between the shock, the sake, and the head trauma he'd just suffered, he found he wouldn't be standing or walking properly for a couple of hours.

Shifting uncomfortably, he glanced around the room.  Considering the people he had previously been sitting between (who has just lost interest in him and were now try to get a stain out of Crawford's strange, frilly shirt), and the people he was sitting between now, Sanosuke decided that he would be infinitely more comfortable at the bottom of a well.

He rubbed the massive lump on the top of his head and wondered if he might not have to visit Megumi the next day.  "Damn, you coulda been a little more gentle, Sai--"  Sano was interrupted as sharp-nailed fingers dug into his thigh.

"Ah!  Do you know our lovely Saiko as well?  Isn't she a beautiful thing!  That delicate Japanese grace and poise.  We are quite taken with her, aren't we, Crawford?"

"We are, Crawford!"

They both smiled like children with a puppy.

Sanosuke wasn't exactly certain how to respond to the foreigners, but he knew he had to proceed carefully--the 'geisha' was giving him a look that promised certain death if he spilled the beans.

Sano had been shocked into paralysis for a good reason.  Never in his whole life had he ever expected to see, in a restaurant, entertaining foreigners, wearing a woman's kimono, full geisha make-up, and even an elaborate wig, the famous Shinsengumi captain, Saitou Hajime.  It was too creepy.

Part of his brain wanted to rationalize that it was just a really ugly, tall, fierce, flat, masculine, angry woman, but there was no mistaking the golden eyes.  Or the cheerful, fake, I'm-not-threatening-or-an-evil-samurai-in-disguise-so-don't-run-away-little-boy facial expression that Saitou adopted when he turned back to the foreigners.

"Sagara-san is just a simple peasant boy who helps out around my home.  He isn't quite right in the head, having been stepped on by a horse as a child, so pay no attention if he starts spouting nonsense."  This flattering little fib was punctuated by one more blood-drawing squeeze of Saitou's claws into his thigh.  "Isn't that right, dear Sano-chan?"

Sanosuke forced himself to show no pain.  "Yeah, whatever you say.  Got a cold, Saiko-chan?  Your voice sounds a bit funny."

"No, I am perfectly fine.  But there has been some sickness circulating around the district lately, so maybe you should take your own health into consideration."

If Saitou dug his nails in any farther, Sano was going to lose his leg.  He decided to take the hint.  "So, uh, what're you guys doin' here?  You from America or Mongolia or something?"  He figured that the tipsy Bartlett and Crawford would be a good distraction from the hell his mind was going through trying to figure out why Saitou Hajime was in drag.

Maybe it was a samurai thing.

"We, my dear boy, are from England."  Bartlett was still smiling like a pompous ass.  Maybe it was a European thing.  "And we are here on behalf of the museum to investigate the fine artwork of your nice little country."

"Find anythin' good?"

Both Bartlett and Crawford broke down into giggles again.

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that.  Truthfully, we're more interesting in Miss Saiko here.  Isn't she magnificent?   The splendorous curves, the graceful limbs.  And delightfully coy, she is.  I've been trying to coax her into posing for a portrait all evening."  Crawford bent over the table in order to whisper loudly.  "I do believe she's the shyest girl I've ever come across, although that seems to be the way in this nation."

As Sanosuke helped Crawford pull his tie out of his sake, Bartlett began mooning at Saitou, oblivious to *her* rolling eyes.  Sano shook his head at the man's behaviour, only to find that vigourous cranial movements were not what the doctor recommended for recent concussion victims.  The room was suddenly filled with spinning fireflies, dancing in Sano's eyes.

He grabbed the table to steady himself, and accidentally knocked an empty jug onto the floor.  He and the almost-forgotten Japanese man both grabbed for it as it rolled towards the wall.

"Thanks, man.  I got it--  You!"  Only lingering dizziness prevented Sanosuke from leaping to his feet in order to punctuate his accusation.

"Shut up an' keep it shut, ya Roosterhead."

Woozy or not, Sano was going to punch something.  Hopefully, it would be Chou, the slouching Japanese he'd been ignoring.

"The hell are you doin' here, Broom?"

Crawford began clapping excitedly again.  "Ah!  You know our translator as well!  Isn't that just delightful, Bartlett?  Oh, so much friendship at a single table."

Sanosuke whipped around.  "Translator?  But this guy's a--"  Once again, manicured nails ripped his thigh to shreds.  He clenched his teeth.  There was no way he was going to get all of the blood out of his pants.

Chou flung an arm around his shoulders.

"You'll hafta 'scuse my buddy here.  He don't realize that this ain't the place fer hopping around, all 'xcited."

"Yeah, right.  Sorry about that."  Sano mustered up all of his hate and directed it at Chou in a single stare.  "Lost my head, is all."

"Oh, that's fine, dear boy.  After all, you have taken quite a nasty bump there.  Here, more sake will make you feel better."

Sanosuke resumed fighting off the insistent Crawford's attempts to drown him in alcohol as Bartlett continued to chitter away on the astounding, magnificent, orgasmic beauty of the geisha Saiko.

"Really, it's okay, man.  I'm thinkin' of givin' up drinkin' right now."

"Piffle!  You needn't be shy, dear boy; it's a marvelous concoction."

"It's fine, really."  Sano desperately cast around for a way to prevent himself from getting drunk.  In a time like this, he certainly didn't need to be any more confused than he already was.  What if he lost his senses and the foreigners raped him?  He didn't trust Chou either.  As for Saitou, the man was dressed like a woman already; there was no telling how bent his mind was. 

"So, uh. . .  You guys don't really need a translator!"

His voice ascended from bass to tenor at the end of the sentence as Saitou's fingernails lodged themselves in his vulnerable ass cheek.

"No, but the police commissioner was quite insistent.  He took a great deal of interest in Crawford's and my trip here; he even introduced us to Miss Saiko!  For which we are ever so grateful, my dear."

Sano watched in horrified bemusement as Bartlett took the hand he had been admiring, brought it to his lips, and *kissed* it.  In public.  Chou choked on what sounded like a broom-sized hairball.

Saitou waved a fan in front of his face and giggled demurely.  "How nice of you to say, Bartlett-san."

Sano goggled.  Saitou wasn't the least bit grossed out over having someone else's lips and mouth on his hand.  And he'd giggled.  Or tried to, at least.  Sanosuke's body was suddenly wracked with shudders.

"Eww, man, don't do that!"

Crawford blinked.  "Don't do what?  What's wrong, old sport?"

"Kiss hi-- her.  It's disgustin'."

Bartlett looked bewildered.  "I only kissed her hand, and she's so beautiful."  He smiled.  "There's nothing disgusting about paying homage to such delicate splendour."

Chou continued to choke on his hairball.

Sano felt like joining him.  "But it's dirty!  Puttin' your mouth all over someone's hand.  You'll pass around germs and stuff that way."  Sano was still in shock that Saitou wasn't angry that someone had put their mouth on his hand of all places.  Didn't he know that was a good way to get sick and die?  Only perverts did things like kiss.  

Then again, that might have explained things.

Crawford threw back his head and started to laugh heartily, but broke down into hiccupping giggles quickly.  "Oh Bartlett, how quaint.  It must be a local myth!  My darling boy, there is nothing disgusting about kissing at all.  Unless it involves a mother-in-law.  Watch, it's quite pleasant."

He proceeded to grab Bartlett and squish their mouths together.  Sano was certain that he saw tongue.

   "Augh!  Sick!"  He scrabbled backwards on his hands, trying to get away from the repellent sight.  A mouth was a very private thing, not to be shared like that.  It would be like rubbing your butt all over someone's face.  

Crawford and Bartlett, who had been really getting into their little demonstration, broke apart and looked at him, disappointment evident.

"This will not do, my boy!  I haven't the foggiest of where you might have picked up your strange ideas about kissing, but you're missing a lot of fun.  Crawford, we simply cannot allow his misinformation to continue!"

"I agree, Bartlett; it would be a crime.  Consider this England's gift to you, Sanosuke.  We are going to teach you how to kiss."  He raised his sake dish in triumphant approval of the plan.

Sano felt his eyes fall out of his face.  Or thought he did.  What had gone wrong with the world?  Tae could beat him up, Saitou was in drag, and now a couple of sloshed foreigners wanted to teach him to be unhygienic and likely catch him consumption in the process.  Something was definitely off.

"Ya know, I think I'll be goin' now.  Thanks for the evenin' an all, but--" He jumped to his feet and bolted for the exit.

Crawford began to wail.

A single, sustained, ear-shattering note that no one who'd ever even heard of a scrotum should ever have been able to reach.

Sano stared.  The man's white face was going blue.  He could think of nothing more intelligent to do than to let his jaw go slack in wonderment.

It was Saitou who saved the day.  Standing carefully, cautious of disturbing his immaculate black wig, he stalked over to Sanosuke, grabbed him by the ear, and hauled him away from the door.

"Do not fret, Crawford-san," he murmured sweetly.  "I'm certain Sano-chan would love--" The 'love' was punctuated by a dainty kick to Sano's shin.  "Love to take kissing lessons from you."

Crawford immediately stopped his cry.  Blinking back tears from his big blue eyes, he smiled.  "Really?"

"Of course."  Saitou's falsetto was anything but soothing to Sano's ears, but it had the desired effect on the bizarre foreigner.

As Crawford and Bartlett gleefully chittered to each other about the lovely sport they were about to partake in, Saitou used the moment and his grasp on Sano's ear to catch the boy's attention.

Finally abandoning his womanly voice, he growled, "Listen to me, you idiot.  I don't know why you came here, but if you blow my cover, I'll make Shishio look like a harmless little flower girl.  Just shut up and do whatever it takes to keep them happy and here.  They are not to leave the building or draw any undue attention."  He lent credence to his threat by ripping a few more bits of flesh out of Sanosuke's poor bottom with his claws.

Sano sank carefully back into his seat beside Chou, who was now grinning at him, having recovered from his hairball.

"So, Sano-chan!"

He internally cursed Saitou for the nickname.

"You come sit over here, dear boy, and Bartlett and I will take turns--"

"Oh no, Crawford, we can't do that!  We're only strangers to the dear boy.  It won't do at all for us to kiss him."

"You're right, of course, Bartlett.  If he's already reluctant, we simply cannot force ourselves on him--our motives would be suspect!"

"Whatever shall we do?"

Sano breathed a sigh of relief as the foreigners fretted; he was certain he was out of danger.

"I know!  Our Sano-chan is already well acquainted with the lovely Miss Saiko, is he not?"  Crawford looked expectantly at Chou as Bartlett took the opportunity to nip back into the sake.  Sano wondered how many jugs they had ordered and prayed that Shinichi wouldn't barge in with more with this entire embarrassing episode in the works.  Where was the kid anyway?  Wasn't he supposed to be bringing food?

He snapped back to attention when he heard Chou say, while elbowing him in the side, "'Guess so.  Yer pretty close t'Saiko, right, Roosterhead?"

"Huh?  What?  Uh. . ."  He had lost track of the conversation after Bartlett and Crawford had decided that neither of them could kiss him.  He glanced over at Saitou who was glaring at him.  Chou was still elbowing him, not the least bit subtle.  He figured he was supposed to say something.  "Yeah, sure.  Of course."

"Wonderful!"

"So, Crawford and I shall demonstrate, and then you can practice with Miss Saiko.  This is working out splendidly!"

"Okay.  Wait, what?!"

"Now Sano-chan, you must begin in this manner."  He pressed his pursed mouth to Bartlett's proffered cheek.

"All right, Sano-chan, now it's your turn," prompted Crawford, while Bartlett blushed and giggled beside him.

Sano darted his eyes at Saitou, who was waiting with thinly veiled irritation.  Then he looked back at the foreigners, also tensely waiting.  Then back to Saitou, whose eyes seemed to be speaking, saying something along the lines of "if you make them unhappy I will claw the skin off your penis and floss my teeth with it."  And back to the foreigners, who looked like nervous puppies.  Back to Saitou, whose eyes might have also been saying "if you touch me, I'll eat your face off."

The sweat built in his armpits and trickled down his brow as he looked back at the foreigners again.  Then to Saitou.  Back to the foreigners.  To Saitou.  The foreigners.  Saitou.  Foreigners.  Saitou.  Foreigners.

Behind him, Chou snickered.

He lunged for Saitou, leading the attack with his lips and closed eyes, hurtling through the air towards Fate.

After an airborne eternity, his lips finally met. . .

Floor.

He looked up, dazed.  Saitou had ducked him.

Crawford and Bartlett were shaking their heads.

"Sano-chan, you mustn't ever attack your subject."

"Poor Saiko, are you unharmed?"

"Only a little windswept, Bartlett-san."

Chou alone took pity on Sano's battered body, grabbing him by the bloodied seat of his pants and hauling him back into place where he slumped, stunned.

"Sano-chan, you must try again.  Gently."

Still uncomprehending, Sano stared dumbly until finally a large hand grabbed his chin, yanked his head around, and pressed his mouth firmly to soft, powdered skin.  When he was released, his head drifted back just a little so that he could take in the totality of the face he'd just kissed.

Pretty, white skin.  Petal-shaped red lips.  Wolf eyes.

Sano yelped and snapped back to reality, scrabbling onto Chou for safety.

"The fuck?!"

The foreigners began giggling again.  "Oh my, dear boy, you are amusing.  One would think you weren't accustomed to the proper company of a gentlewoman like our Miss Saiko."

Sano choked on his tongue as Chou pushed him away.

"We will forgive you, however, as you are quite adorable."

He couldn't even tell which foreigner was speaking anymore.

"Now, to continue with your instruction, for I say boy, you can be taught!"

"Oh, I most agree.  Except for the one flaw of excessive force, his form was excellent."

"Quite!"

Sano groaned and prayed for unconsciousness.

"Carrying on then.  Now, a kiss to the hand--you'll have to practice that later--is useful for showing respect, whether officially or as a compliment.  A kiss to the cheek is a sign of affection and can be given to anyone from your grandmother to your newest lover."

Sano groaned and prayed for death.

"But now we shall move onto the more advanced realm of kisses to the lips."

Sano was weeping like a little girl on the inside.  Carnal entanglement of any kind with the Wolf of Mibu was certain to result in pain, suffering, humiliation, and name-calling.

"First, like this.  Are you paying attention, old sport?"

Bartlett leaned in and gave Crawford a chaste, but proper kiss, then looked pointedly at Sano.

Sano swallowed his fear and grabbed his knees to stop them from shaking.  He assured himself that first of all, Saitou probably was going to let him do this seeing as he helped the first time, and second of all, that a contagious flesh-eating disease was a nice way to die.  He leaned over to the side, squinched his eyes shut again, and darted forward to kiss Saitou.  After doing so, he jumped away from the scary man once again, trying to quell the shudders that wracked his body.

The foreigners were applauding however, and Chou had been guffawing steadily for the last five minutes.  Saitou was scowling.  Probably pissed about his smudged make up.

"Excellent, excellent, my dear boy!  Next time, you must relax, but aside from that, we shall have you puckering professionally quite soon."

Uncertain on how to react to the offbeat compliment, Sano opted to develop a nervous twitch.

"Is that all, or what?"  His voice felt hoarse with the amount of tension in his body.

"Not in the least, my good sir!  There is still the most important kiss of all!"

"Yes, of course.  You must practice it open-mouthed."

Sano stiffened and got ready to bolt, but Chou grabbed his shoulder.

"Easy, Roosterhead; it ain't gonna hurt ya."

"It fuckin' might!"

Crawford and Bartlett giggled, leaning on each other.

"Oh, Sano-chan, you are so quaint.  Here, watch.  It's not as terrible as you imagine."  They grinned wickedly in unison.  "You may find it more enjoyable that you think!"

Sanosuke would have run right then, had he not been otherwise occupied with suppressing mental images.  He needn't have bothered with that as the foreigners made all of his imaginings flesh with drunken vigour before his eyes anyway.

There was groping.  And squelching.  And mushing.  And humping.  And moaning.  And tongue.  Lots of tongue.

Sano ran for it, leaping towards the door and freedom.

Only to be grabbed by the neck and slammed against a wall by a delicate, feminine hand.

"Please do not fret, Crawford-san, Bartlett-san."  The foreigners eyes were welling up with tears again, even as the lamp light made their saliva-coated lips gleam.  "Sano-chan was only overwhelmed by the passion of your instruction.  His tiny, damaged brain is easily frightened.  I'm sure he'll feel better any moment.  Isn't that right, Sano-chan?"  Saitou was discreetly kicking him in the shin again, but he wasn't playing the game anymore.  Sagara Sanosuke would never, even on pain of death, consent to a tongue-swordfight with anyone, least of all a psycho cop in drag.  Of that much, he was certain.  He began yelling at Saitou and trying to punch him in the head, ignoring the growing unhappiness in the foreigners' expressions.

Saitou cursed his breath.  "He has gotten overexcited, the poor thing.  He must have become," he coughed delicately, "somewhat impassioned by your demonstration, if I am making myself clear."

Bartlett looked unsure.  "Well, you are quite enchanting, my dear, and the prospect of exchanging such pleasantries with you would quicken the heart of any man, but are you certain that such a disturbed reaction is normal?"

"Oh yeah, fer the Roosterhead, it's 'n ev'ryday thing."

"Well, if you are quite adamant, but it is still worrying.  Oh, it would be awful if we have inadvertently harmed the poor boy.  Bartlett, whatever would we do?"

Crawford and Bartlett lower lips began wiggling horribly.  "Really, I am most concerned about the boy; I feel almost ill, Crawford.  Perhaps we should retire?  We must let the boy alone."

Saitou elbowed Sano in the stomach to momentarily subdue his still raging tantrum.  "Really, kind sirs, I cannot allow you to worry.  I assure you, it is only overeagerness on his part to continue with his lesson.  He is simply incapable of expressing himself properly.  Here, I will help him in this last lesson, and then we can continue our evening.  You still have yet to tell me about the museums of France."

"Are you quite certain, Miss Saiko?"

"Oh, yes.  I am."

Saitou grabbed Sano's chin with his claws again and whispered harshly in his normal voice.  "You had better be damned grateful for this when you wake up, you idiot."  Saitou then took Sano's renewed struggles as an excuse to slam the young man's head against the wall one more time, this time aiming for one of the sturdy supports and using considerably more force.

The last thing Sanosuke saw before drifting off into blissful unawareness was the descent of a bright red flower petal.

He awoke to Shinichi's worried face hovering above his.  Strangely terrified that the boy would try to kiss him, Sano sat up and pushed himself away.

"The fuck is goin' on?"

"Oh, Sanosuke-kun, you've awakened!  Oh, I was worried you had died.  Wouldn't that be dreadful?  Are you well?"

"Hell no!"

Shinichi fretted visibly.  Sano felt a wave of unwelcome déjà vu.  

"Oh no, I was hoping you would not be too upset.  It really was unfortunate, the whole affair, and a grievous accident, you must understand!  Why, Father was only trying to do a favour for the police commissioner, they're old acquaintances, and then you became tangled up in it most accidentally.  Officer Fujita and Officer Sawagejou were originally the only ones supposed to be in attendance; I was to have any other guests leave, but Officer Kawaji recognized you and thought you might have been sent by mutual friend of yours and his.  To ascertain the particulars of your appearance, Officer Kawaji instructed me to offer you employment, operating under the theory that agreement on your part would be uncharacteristic and a sure sign that you were here under the direction of your friend, who showed an interest in this case, according to Officer Kawaji.  If you requested only food, we would have determined--without betraying the secrecy of our cause--that your presence was coincidental and I was to send you on your way in such a case.  Your mixed answers confused me, however, and I thought it best to assume you were here to help, giving Officer Kawaji's vehemence that you would never willingly allow yourself to be contracted into the labour force.  Of course, once you reacted so violently towards Officer Fujita's appearance and seemed so ignorant of the circumstances, it was obvious that I had erred.  I felt ever so awful, Sanosuke-kun, and I wanted to rescue you, but the Englishmen might have become upset by your departure and taken their own leave, which would have upset the whole plan.  Oh, it was so vital that the plan remain intact.  The Englishmen, you see, have been selected as targets for death by the yakuza in order to make an example of them for other entering Westerners, but the Englishmen refused military protection!  If they are harmed, it will be an awful scandal for Japan, so the police are protecting them in secret.  They have been forced to use different officers every few nights, however, because the Englishmen are so determined to travel unaccompanied.  Last night was Officer Fujita and Officer Sawagejou's shift and the only way the police were able to have the Englishmen accept the company was to disguise the officers as geisha and translator, which is why Officer Fujita was dressed so.  He did a splendid job, wouldn't you say?  Oh, but forgive my tactlessness!  It really was a terrible thing that you became embroiled in the whole affair, but don't worry, the Englishmen are safely on their way and will have forgotten about the whole thing soon.  Wasn't it clever of Officer Fujita to think of rendering you unconscious, though?  It must have been some relief for you.  Oh, pardon me, I nearly forgot.  He left this note."

Sano's head was spinning as he glanced at the note and gave it up as a lost cause when the kanji swam in front of his eyes.

"Oh!  Are you able to read it?  Officer Fujita seemed to think you would require assistance in that area.  Allow me."  Shinichi retrieved the piece of paper.  "It says--  It says. . ."  He coughed politely as a blush worked its way up his neck.  "Excuse me, but it says, 'next time, clean your teeth first.'"

 The boy coughed again and delivered the note back into Sano's hands, avoiding eye contact.  "Ah, Officer Kawaji left this for you as well."

Half expecting another cryptic message, Sano was surprised to find money in his hand.

"Reparations for your indignity; he was most chagrined at causing you trouble last night.  I so hope you don't hold it against him."

Sano stood slowly, wobbling, money in one hand, note in the other.  He was entirely uncertain of what he was doing.  "Oh, yeah.  Sure."

He wandered towards the door.

"Sanosuke-kun?"

"See you later, kid."

As he walked outside into the newly sunlit streets, his pace quickened and the haze began to fall from his brain.  He stuffed the note in his pocket for later consideration.  Or perhaps conflagration.

Or. . .  He licked his lips, perhaps not.

Whatever.  The note would come later.

He hurried down the street, clutching the money, a certain restaurant and a certain tab in mind.

It was good to know that some things never changed.

~*~~*~~*~


End file.
